#So don't demand to know anything and don't police how they express personal stuff like gender even if you don't get it

[hajihiko]

My dude, hi!

I have a question because I am thinking of starting post Danganronpa art on Tumblr (I already post on Instagram, I just wanted to post in two places like cool artists do)

Are there anythings you have to say about posting art on Tumblr? Anything to look out for? Any advice? How's the fandom usually with artists?

tag well and correctly (no censoring words), if you reblog something you like you can talk either in the tags (like I do) or add text (but that's less subtle, and either way, mind that everyone can see it). Don't forget to open your ask box in settings so you can receive questions, and just like. Chat! I've made friends just by rambling in the tags or asking people what they think about xyz.

You curate your own dash, so follow what you like and block what you don't. Blocking is not treated as a personal thing, at least in my circles. If you start an argument, be aware that everyone can see and you might get dragged.

Idk about how it is with artists since everyones always so nice to me lol. In my opinion it's great! But again, follow and block at will and don't trash-talk and it's probably fine.

Advice: reblog a lot of stuff, more interactions that way.

Oh and change your icon right away if you make a blog so people know you're not a bot

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 

"It was me." 

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 

"Just said that." 

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?" 

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

masterlist

[itswhumpday]

Lifeline | Part 2

[Part 1]

The Doctor comes inside the room and start to check on the clipboard by the end of the bed. They're not surprised to see Caretaker back there again, still in uniform from a day of work. 

"Do you guys already know what was in those cylinders?" 

The doctor pushes their glasses up their nose, putting the clipboard to the side.

"I've been told not to tell you anything else about their state. I hear you've been causing a ruckus in your comman chain."

Caretaker dismissed the doctor's comment with a wave of a hand. 

"Technically, not telling me is police business obstruction." They say, and they both know they're joking. Caretaker has been demanding answers their boss can’t answer yet. They’ve always been one to rush things. Boss told them to take a break. "I've just been thinking about it, it's all. There was the big blue oxygen one… And another, smaller. Red."

The doctor nods. 

"I was told the CSI are still working to ID the substance. It was a gas, so it mostly dissipated." They look at Caretaker and the police person don't like the sadness in their expression. "We think it was a drug. A way to keep them under, to keep their… Abilities dorment."

"Does it… Have any effect on their body?"

"It's hard to know… They've been through a lot. All of them. It's hard to know what comes from the drug and what is just the body’s way of dealing with shock. We'll know… When they wake up." 

Caretaker nods, looking at the small hand at the Whumpee hooked to the heart monitor. They think of the way those hands tried to fight them. Of how they shook the whole time the paramedics arrived. Of how unmoving they had been since. 

Uncharacteristically, the doctor makes a question this time. 

"I know I'm not supposed to ask but… What will we do with these abilities… Now that we know they exist?"

Caretaker has been thinking about it. For them, at least, there has been always one question only. 

"Protect and serve them." They nod. "All of this city. Powers or not."

Doctor gives them a side smile. 

"Good to know there are some good cops like you."

Caretaker shrugs. 

"I don't know if I'm that good. I try to be." Caretaker sighs. "We still have no ID on them either. The other people all have missing people reports and families have been contacted. But not… Not them. The files from the place self-destructed with the blackout so that was a bust... Plus... My friends told me the other rooms didn't have a safety lock like theirs did… So that means they're important, right?"

The doctor can only open their arms, with no answers. 

"Guess it's up to us to protect them until they can tell us themselves".

Whenever Doctor comes, they keep asking if Caretaker has nowhere else to go. The truth is they really don't. 

This job has been everything for them since they've been a child. They've dreamed and studied and trained and studied harder and trained harder and clawed their way up. They loved being police and they loved doing good work. 

But all their colleagues always told them there would be a day they'd face the case that would never leave them. 

This was no longer their jurisdiction. They were part of the big operations division. They didn't investigate. They had detectives and federals for that. And they didn't really want to get in the way of that. They didn't want to investigate. That’s what they tried to tell their boss.

They wanted to know. They wanted this to end. 

Whumpee was so small it terrified them. They're no child, but it's uncertain how young they are without an ID. The doctors on the complex thinks they are around their early twenties. They're so small, though. Now that they were clean, it was impossible to fathom why anyone would want to hurt them. 

For 48 hours, all of the times the Caretaker came, it was the same. Quiet unconsciousness and silence. The night of the second day, however, things changed. 

Caretaker came inside the room and put his stuff to the side. They came to the bed and instantly notice their movement. Their legs have gone up and their head is bobbing from side to side slowly.

Caretaker hears mumbles. 

"I don't know, please. I don't… Don't know how, please… I…" It's hard to distinguish, but it twists their heart into a knot. 

Caretaker calls for a nurse. They watch as Whumpee's face gets clammy. Drops of sweat shine in the low lights of the hospital at night. When Caretaker touches them, they're burning up. 

They call for the nurse again, but no one comes. 

They go to the bathroom and picks up a towel. When they come back, Whumpee is no longer speaking. Just whimpering. Their legs have sunk even more into their middle and their free hand is pressing it. 

Caretaker slowly puts the towel against their forehead. Whumpee whimpers louder, but Caretaker knows it's not at them. They rub the cold water down their arms where they can and their chest. 

When they try to touch it to their neck, Whumpee lets out a sob. 

Outside, thunder crackles. The same smell from the lab again. Caretaker pulls away, scared. Wasn't even cloudy earlier. Could it be… Could one person really do such things? 

They press the button for the nurse again and get no response. They go to the hall and look around, but no one is at the nurses table at the end of it. They go there and try to hang on a couple more, but they're too restless. 

Back at the room, things aren't looking too great. The beeping of the heart monitor has gotten faster. Sweat is seeping down to the sheets. They're fighting the thin blanket on top of them. Caretaker takes it off of them and they quite down.  

Caretakes goes to the bathroom and wets the towel again when they hear a movement back at the room. They turn around sighing. 

"Finally, I've been calling…"

Caretaker is faced with someone whose uniform is not blue and pink. It is much like theirs, in fact, except there is blood on their shoes and no patch anywhere. They have a tranquilizer gun in one hand and Caretaker sees another, a real one in their holster. 

Caretaker knows only surprise is on their side. So they throw the wet towel on them. The attacker quickly recovers and tries to shoot at Whumpee. There is the sound of something falling, but Whumpee seems unharmed. 

Caretaker throws themselves into the fight, pushing the Attacker to the hallway. They try to shoot again over their shoulder, but Caretaker twists their arm. Attacker hits Caretaker in the face with their elbow, freeing their hand, but their tranquilizing gun falls. 

Caretaker tries a punch. They get one back, right in the gut. They try another and get hit in the head with the other gun Attacker has just pulled. They fall down, grabbing for what they can defend themselves with. 

They shoot the tranquilizant dart at the Attacker’s neck. They rolls out of range and inside the room, closing the door behind them. 

They grab Whumpee and rip everything from them, dragging them to the floor. They're almost too warm to touch and grumble as they're moved. They’re too weak to fight, but their hands open and close as if rehearsing punches.

 Caretaker doesn't know how long until the tranquilizant neutralizes the attacker. Their phone is at they jacket on a sofa next to the window. If they could only… 

Attacker opens the door. Behind the hospital bed, they’re out of sight. Attacker is clearly struggling as they stumble inside, looking for the Whumpee. They take a couple of steps and fall down to their knees, immediately locking eyes with Caretaker. 

"Boss ain't gonna be happy."

They point their gun at Whumpee and Caretaker moves to shield them. 

There is a loud shot. Attacker falls to the floor soon after. Caretaker is scared of moving, of feeling the pain of the shot they just took. They wait. No pain comes. They pull away, looking for signs that the Whumpee is hurt, but they look just as bad as before and not much more. Then they watch, dazed, at the remains of a crumpled bullet fall from their neck. 

Taglist: @gnawingonhumanbones @smolnarwhal @draganies @thatsthewhump @burtlederp @neuro-whump 

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

Pt.3

Seyoon was unpacking all the late night snacks he had gotten onto a blanket at a secluded rooftop. Hearing footsteps he looked up to see Guerin, who looked different than usual. She didn't appear to be wearing any makeup, had her normal stud earrings but had a cute black mask with a white sharp toothy grin. She was dressed in joggers and a sweatshirt with the hood up. He cocked his head at her as she approached.

"I know, I look like shit. But it was late and I'd already gotten ready for bed. You can't expect me to spruce up after that." Guerin guessed at his expression.

"You look fine. Cozy. It's just different. Also you're late." He shrugged and patted the blanket next to him, sitting as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"I got lost..." she grumbled, "I've never been great with directions." She sat down in the spot he indicated, looking over the spread he had brought, "Good grief I thought you just wanted tteokbokki."

Seyoon smiled automatically, "You said you hadn't eaten, and I know how much you like food so I thought I should get some options." Guerin leaned her head in his direction and offered a wry smile under her mask, unable to argue with his logic. "Besides, I got this for us too." He pulled out an additional bag, from which he drew two paper cups, a bottle of soju and two cans of beer.

Guerin raised her eyebrows and sat up straight, "Oh we're drinking too?"

"We have to. It goes well with tteokbokki, fried chicken and jajangmyeon." He shrugged nonchalantly as he began opening everything up and handing Guerin some chopsticks. "Although it's blueberry soju. I thought you might like that."

"How did you figure that?" She asked, sneaking a piece of tteokbokki and pulling her mask to her chin to eat it.

"Well you said before you liked Grapefruit and Plum but I couldnt find it, so I thought blueberry was the next best option." Seyoon shrugged, separating the cups and pouring soju into them, handing one to Guerin and offering his as cheers.

She laughed in response and took her shot, "Honestly I dont know how that train of thought lines up but you aren't wrong." She watched as Seyoon refilled the cups and couldn't keep the grin from her face, "You really went all out for this, it's awesome. Thank you."

He shrugged again, looking up at her and their eyes met briefly before both looked away to select food options, "Food makes things better." He said simply.

"Cheers to that." They both took another shot and then ate in silence for a while.

"So... how are you?" Seyoon asked awkwardly, unsure of how to broach the subject.

"I'm fine, all things considered." Guerin said almost mechanically, "I keep telling people that."

"Okay... but how are you really?" Seyoon asked again, leaning back to look at Guerin. She sighed and set her chopsticks down and didn't speak for a moment.

"Well. What do you know happened?" She asked finally.

"I know you were attacked by that crazy lady. I know you were arrested but you were cleared because of video evidence. I know that she is being charged by the company. But I also know you haven't been with HEET lately." He trailed off.

Guerin reached over for one of the beers. Seyoon cracked it open and put it in her hand, grabbing his as well while she took a sip, leaned back against the wall and looked up at the sky.

"Yeah. We were worried something might happen again. So part of our plan included recording any more altercations that might occur. Self defense laws are tricky and it's usually one person's word against another. Plus as a foreigner, and a big one, we knew some witnesses might not provide unbiased information." She paused and took another sip, "The boys were so brave, they did exactly as they were supposed to. That woman had some gross stuff in that present too. Police said it was unwashed underwear, a vial of blood, another of spit..." she scrunched her nose, "stuff like that."

"Sounds like you guys have the law on your side." Seyoon said, waiting for more information.

Another sip and pause before she spoke, "Yeah, we do. We're able to press charges. The company is suing her. She might see jail time. They even made me go to the hospital to make sure they had a medical report for the court."

"Wait medical report?" Seyoon looked over at her, surprised, "What happened?" Now that she had pulled down her mask and he was looking closely he saw the cut and slight bruising at the corner of her mouth as she smiled dryly and tapped her cheek.

"I let her hit me. I figured if she looked unharmed and I was injured it would go better for us too."

"You're crazy." He sounded almost admiring as he leaned in closer, "Let me see that, does it hurt?"

"It's fine, I've been hit in the face many times, and she's probably the smallest adult that's ever taken a swing at me. It doesnt hurt at all. OW WHY?" She flinched and cried out as he poked the bruising.

His eyes widened and he let out a snort of laughter, "Doesn't hurt at all?"

"You little shit." She laughed and smacked his hand away from her face, "Of course it'll hurt if you press a bruise."

He giggled again, "Sorry. It does look like it hurts a lot. You should maybe stop letting people hit you in the face."

She laughed, "Well it hasn't always been a choice, this one was though."

"So... there's more right?" He asked after their laughter had subsided.

Guerin avoided his eyes by taking a longer drink from her beer, "Yeah. There's been some blowback. Some false stories have gotten out and theres some people that claim I'm making a bad name for HEET or that I was the one who started it, that I instigated a fight or was being rude to a fan. There's quite a lot that demanded I be removed as manager, actually."

"So they caved?" Seyoon asked disbelievingly.

"Well. Kind of?" Guerin sighed, "I've been temporarily removed. Right now with the case going and the false information it's actually less safe for HEET to be around me in case someone tries to target me. So until things are officially able to be released..." she stopped talking abruptly blinking rapidly, trying to hide it with another long gulp of beer. "It's not like I've been fired. I'm grateful for that. Another company would probably have written me off as more trouble than I'm worth. They have me doing other work right now but... I liked my job. I loved my boys, and looking after them." She couldnt hide the tears running down her face now, and didn't bother to try.

Seyoon floundered, watching her face then looking around before seeing napkins and hurriedly handing them to her. She smiled and thanked him, dabbing her cheeks half heartedly before giving up and chugging the rest of her beer through her tears. With an unconvincing smile she looked at Seyoon, "So that's what I mean when I say all things considered. I'm fine."

He didn't saying anything right away, pulling his long shirt sleeve over his hand, he leaned over and dabbed at her face to dry it. She started to pull away, shocked, but he reached out with his other hand and held her in place. "Hold still." She didn't fight back, he was so close and so handsome she couldn't help but feel somewhat transfixed, despite her stomache dropping and heart pounding, all she could do was freeze until he let her go. He picked up his chopsticks, selected a large piece of fried chicken and put it to her mouth, which she accepted without complaint.

"It's okay to be sad when bad things happen. You don't have to lie to everyone." He paused and added quietly as though he wasn't sure he should be saying it, "You don't have to lie to me."

Guerin choked, "Oh my god." She swallowed as soon as she could and laughed, "Are you using lines on me to seem cool? Is this a drama?" She laughed again.

"Yah." He protested, "I was just trying to be supportive."

Guerin laughed again then fed him some tteokbokki, "You're as adorable as a cicada." She said and pinched his cheek.

"I am so much more handsome than some bug." He protested around the food in his mouth.

"Of course you are." She put a shot of soju in his hand, cheersed and downed hers. He followed shortly.

"Thanks though." She glanced at him, "It means a lot."

He playfully shoved her and stole her chopsticks, which started a whole new bickering fit.

Charlie had been working up the nerve all morning to talk to her boss. It was a privilege to be allowed to be so hands on with animals and she didn't want her boss to think she was taking advantage... but it was such a cool opportunity. She had to at least try.

"Byun Minsoo-ssi." She lead off tentatively. The lead vet looked up from her paperwork. Perhaps she looked stern simply from Charlie's point of view but it was just as believable that she was no-nonsense in everyday life as well.

"Yes? Charlie-ssi?"

"I have a friend who is a manager for an idol group, she is friends with a group called A.C.E and I wondered if they could come behind the scenes to meet some of our animals?" Charlie ventured cautiously.

Minsoo paused for a moment before speaking "A.C.E? Your friend knows A.C.E? And they want to come here?" Her attempt to play it cool was poorly hidden and gave Charlie confidence.

"Yes! I'd like to invite my friend Guerin and A.C.E to come and see what we have. I think it would be an excellent opportunity to promote the zoo and educate on the importance of conservation!"

The normally serious Minsoo beamed at Charlie, "That's an excellent idea. Let's get in contact and organize something."

Charlie did a mental fist pump and hustled off to message her friends.

Deciding to keep the visit informal allowed the planning process to go more quickly. Approval from the higher ups and organizing with Beat Interactive took a few days. Guerin has been allowed to come as a personal guest for Charlie and A.C.E who requested she tag along. Guerin, never passing up a chance to visit the zoo, happily accepted. Charlie hoped it could provide her friend with a genuine mood boost. Guerin tended to internalize her negative emotions but Charlie could tell she wasn't her usual self.

"We'll do formal filming in the behind the scenes areas, but then we'll allow you to do your own self cam work throughout the areas of the zoo the public has regular access to." Minseok explained as A.C.E got last second touch ups.

"What animals are we seeing today?" Asked Chan excitedly. They were in the vet and quarantine areas so it was unpredictable what had been planned for them.

"It's a surprise." Charlie said, the most excited A.C.E had ever seen her.

Byun Minsoo would be taking the lead in speaking for the cameras but suggested Charlie stay by to help handle animals and manage the guests. Minsoo might be strict but she was fair, knowing Charlie wanted to do this with her friends she wasn't going to exclude her.

Guerin was hanging back with Minseok as preparations were made. "Noona do you know what we're gonna see?" Chan tried to wheedle from her, pouting slightly. Guerin stared pointedly away from him.

"Don't pull that cute stuff on me, I can't tell you." Of course she knew what animals Charlie was working with, she couldn't let some aegyo spoil the surprise. Chan pouted more and shook his shoulders in a small tantrum.

"Alright that's enough." Minseok stepped in before Guerin could cave, he redirected A.C.E to the main area so they could begin filming. The recording started with a tour of the facilities, showing equipment and how to accommodate all the different animals they had based on type and size. They explained the importance of training animals to participate in their own veterinary care voluntarily then showed them a video example of a mountain lion presenting for a blood draw, and a gorilla opening it's mouth for its teeth to be examined, or a macaque presenting its arm for an insulin injection. Minsoo continued to talk about the research and breeding that the zoo participated and how it was vital for conservation efforts and how it benefitted animals in the wild.

The boys were perfect guests, asking questions and reacting well. They saw a few animals in the quarantine area, new to the zoo and waiting to be introduced to their new homes. The last area they were taken to was for longer term housing for animals that couldnt be in the usual enclosures. A spot had been sectioned, layered with blankets, plushies and other toys. The boys, perplexed, were instructed to go in and sit down with Minsoo while Charlie disappeared momentarily. She returned with an inauspicious crate, facing it away from A.C.E she opened the door and sat with Minsoo, both grinning for the surprise.

Two young tiger cubs tottered they way out, mowing. The trepidation left A.C.E as they all exclaimed in amazement and adoration. Minsoo and Charlie showed A.C.E how to bottle feed them, then let them take turns.

"Their mother was a first time mom, and she wouldnt take care of them." Minsoo explained as the boys cooed sadly, "It's not unusual for that to happen with new mothers even in the wild. But since we are here we made the choice to step in and help raise them." Once the babies were fed they were left to roam and play. One clambered into Jun's lap and fell asleep, the other playing with a toy with Donghun and Byeongkwan. Jun couldn't control his face, his amazement and joy at being chosen as he got everyone's attention and pointed to the sleeping kitten. Seyoon and Chan scooted near him to pet the sleeping animal. Charlie couldn't stop herself from grinning, Guerin knew at least part of it was Jun's reaction and not just the cute tiger cubs.

Once it was time to say goodbye to the kittens, A.C.E did their formal goodbye with them and the filming for behind the scenes ended. The rest of the staff and guests got an opportunity to greet the tigers as well and once Guerin had her turn she flagged down Charlie as the babies were taken back to their enclosure. After a brief talk with Minsoo who let out a restrained laugh and nod, Charlie and Guerin went to a series of smaller tanks on the opposite side of the room, Guerin returning with her hands closed suspiciously.

"We have one more animal for you to meet." Charlie said with a chuckle. Donghun was the only one with the good sense to he suspicious.

"This is one of my favorite animals." Guerin said with a grin, uncovering her hand and showing a large male Madagascar Hissing Cockroach sitting placidly in her hand. All five boys instinctively recoiled, Chan and Jun exclaiming in surprise. A.C.E's reaction elicited chuckles from most of the staff if they werent busy being disgusted themselves.

"It's okay guys. They're harmless!" Guerin said holding it up. Donghun and Jun recovered the fastest, still looking apprehensive and surprised respectively. Chan was behind Jun, leaning around him curiously but still looking fearful. Beyongkwan, eyes wide, didnt move forward so quickly and Seyoon was the furthest away had a very subtle terror that could only be read in his eyes.

"They're really cool, they're called hissing cockroaches cause they hiss!" She gave the cockroach a light pet down it's back which caused it to take two steps forward and hiss quietly as it protested the contact. The boys jumped again. "So insects dont have lungs, they breath through small holes along their body called spiracles. These guys have evolved to force air out of those holes to make a hissing sound that they use to communicate to each other or even predators! Their mouths are too small to bite us so they're harmless!" She was so enthusiastic in the explanation it couldnt help but draw the boys curiosity. She explained how to tell males from females and how most cockroaches are pests at all and how vital they are to the environment. Eventually Donghun worked up the courage first to touch it when offered. Jun became somewhat enamored and greeted the insect before he touched it, but jumped when it hissed before laughing at his own reaction. Chan actually opted to hold it and Byeongkwan even moved forward but Seyoon stayed in the back.

"Come on Hyung!" Chan called to him, looking more closely at the cockroach.

"I'm just looking at stuff over here you guys go on without me." Seyoon said, pretending to examine equipment near him.

"It is kind of cute." Jun admitted, petting it again, still jumping slightly when it hissed.

"On a scale of Seyoon to a Cicada how cute is it?" Donghun joked causing Jun, Chan, Byeongkwan, Guerin and Charlie to laugh.

[go-diane-winchester]

Are people not allowed to ship destiel?

Thank you​ for the very pertinent question.  I, like most sensible slash fans, have absolutely no problem with any ship.  I don't have issues with tinhatting.  When it comes to shipping, I am very tolerant.  As long as you don't hurt people, go ahead and have your fantasy.  Destiel is not a problem.  The militant shippers, or hellers, most definitely are.  Some people I know, used to ship Destiel, before getting fed up and moving on.  We have made a distinction between destiel shipper and destiheller before, until we were blue in the face, but we have to keep repeating this because hellers don't circulate the truth, just their headcanons.  I even did posts about it, but the hellers don't want to acknowledge that.  I have come across destiel shippers.  They are nice people.  They ship their ship and ask for nothing in return, because they acknowledge what slash fiction is and they make no demands of any kind.  Hellers are a beast of a different breed, altogether.  A heller is someone who wants to control fandom's thoughts.  Nobody is allowed to think contrary to what a heller thinks.  And if you do, then you deserve to kill yourself.  I, myself, was recently told to put my head in an oven. 

So what kind of person is a heller?

A heller cannot understand that subtexts is opinion-based, and that not everyone going to see what you see and interpret it the way you interpret it.  For example, the Dr Sexy scene.  Jensen, and most fans, interpreted the scene as Dean was fanboying over meeting his on screen idol.  The hellers insist, even despite Jensen saying otherwise, that Dean was ''crushing'' on Dr Sexy.  The Destiel camp is very headcanon and meta heavy.  Instead of just writing stories, indulging in fanart etc, they are constantly writing headcanon and meta.  Other hellers, just reading the headcanon and meta, just accept it with question.  No debate is held over the analysis.  Why is that?  They don't question meta writers because then they will have to question their ship and they cant question their ship because they want Destiel to be canon.  They can't have it any other way.  If an individual uses Destiel and canon in the same conversation, immediately I can tell this is a heller.  A normal shipper doesn't want to change the entire show to suit her kinks.  And she recognizes that its a kink, a fetish and nothing more.  Hellers don't do that.  They pretend that they are crusading for LGBT representation when they ask for canon.  And why do I have a problem with it?  Its shouldn't be my business what hellers blindly believe or don't believe in the heller section of the fandom, should it?  Unfortunately, it is.  Its everyone's problem, because the hellers believe the meta writers and then they ask questions based on the meta at cons.  They harass J2 over the meta.  The Dr Sexy question is meta-based.  So is the Cas-Collette parallel question.  The Js will be put in an uncomfortable position based on how thinly veiled the question is because they will have to answer honestly.  The Dr Sexy question was a thinly veiled question.  They answered honestly and got bashed on Twitter for it.  The parallel question flew right over Jensen's heads.  Myths and archetypes are something Jared is fascinated by, so Jensen told Jared to answer the question.  And Jared answered the question positively from a literary standpoint.  I guarantee that if he had asked the fan to elaborate on the parallel, his answer would have been vastly different.  They use that as proof that SPN is queer baiting them.   

They cannot differentiate between SPN fandom and Destiel fandom.  When a heller speaks about Destiel, especially when harassing SPN execs on SM, they speak for the rest of fandom.  They say that ''the fans demand a spin-off'' and ''the fans deserve Destiel to be canon''.  And if someone points out to them that not all the fans agree with that statement, they are called a ''fake fan''.  If you don't care much for Cas, you are fake fan.  If you don't like Misha, you are a fake fan.  If you are not ''Destiel positive'' you are a homophobe.  Hellers are notorious name callers.  Their name calling reaches epic proportions when they have to deal with J2 and wincest shippers because these two ships are their primary competition.  They seem to hate sastiel and mishalecki too, but no so much.  They rationalize their  ship shaming by saying that shipping Destiel is the moral high ground.  Because ''wincest is incest'' even though many wincest fans have said they just like J2's onscreen avatars and chemistry, and that they don't condone incest.  But acknowledging that is too difficult so instead of doing that, hellers go on repeat insisting that wincest fans are liars and perverts.  Shipping J2 is also morally wrong because ''they are totally like brothers''.  So hellers essentially want to police fandom and how it behaves and what it thinks.   

The Destiel fandom, primarily, only likes Misha and Misha-related stuff.  They insist that Misha is a lead, and an equal to Jensen and Jared.  They attack anyone who says otherwise, including Jensen and Jared.  Remember, the Nolacon joke that got blown out of proportion?  The only ones who screamed about the joke on SM, where the hellers.  They were taking revenge from Jensen and Jared for saying that Misha not a lead or ''lead support''.  Two people approached me about Misha fans [and these may just be minions and Destiel shippers] who said that they were attacked for not liking Cas or Misha.  One was attacked online.  The other is a kid who is attacked by a heller at school.  They can't seem to understand that you can't force someone to stan a celebrity or ship.  Its a common sense thing, that has to be explained to a heller.  They don't realize that people don't like to be told what to do and who to love.  People like celebrities who are their ''type''.  I don't like Misha.  He is not my ''type'' either physically or personality wise.  I never liked SPN because of him.  I like SPN because of the brothers and the story.  Forcing me to change my opinion is kind of drastic, don't you think?  I am certain that most fans who have a blind hatred for Misha now, used to be neutral fans who didn't have a negative opinion about him previously.  By forcing Misha on everyone, constantly screaming ''where's the angel?'' and insisting talk show hosts invite Misha too, since he's a ''lead'', they have irritated these fans to the point where now the fans scowl and the mere mention of Misha or Cas.  The same can be said for Destiel.  They pushed Destiel so much into everyone's face that fans who were amused by the whole shipping thing previously, no hate anything related to Destiel because they are sick of it.  I have seen Destiel in the AKF tag.  Hellers are also notorious over taggers.  In fact, that is where the rift began.  With the tagging. 

They don't acknowledge that slash is opinion-based.  Although this is an understudied area, I have a hypothesis.  Shipping is based on love.  If you love both the people in the pairing, you will write slash about them, because slash fiction is an expression of love, primarily.  There are some kinky bits and pieces here and there, but they are a byproduct of the love that the writer may have.  Some people cant slash Jared for some reason.  One fan [not a shipper, this is just an example] said, her brother [or was it her cousin] looks exactly like Jared.  She posted his picture, and if I hadn't read the caption, I would have thought that it was really Jared.  So I can understand if she doesn't want to slash Jared with anyone.  It would be weird for her because then she will have to write about him romantically.  One fan said [and this was years ago] that Jensen looks identical to her uncle.  She would never ship him or his character with anyone, because she would be repulsed.  I feel Jensen is one of the most beautiful men on Earth.  That is my opinion.  My cousin watched the scene where Dean is crying over Sam's dead body.  He wipes his tears and when his hands were in the frame, my cousin said ''he has ugly fingernails''.  Did I get offended?  No.  That is her opinion.  To her, his finger nails really are ugly.  And yet she thinks he has a handsome face.  I read a Sevin fic where the writer said, ''Jared has such hot knuckles''.  She is gushing over an obscure body part, because that is probably what she likes.  Hellers don't understand that.  They want everyone to like the same people, for the same reasons, in the same manner.  No diversion from that collective opinion is allowed.  People's desires are not uniform.  How they perceive beauty is also not uniform.  I call Misha ugly, partly because I don't appreciate being told to put my head in an oven and partly because [in my eyes] his behavior made me become sexually put off by him.  I used to slash him before.  Believe me, Misha only started to look ugly to me, when I started to really not like him.  For eight years he was nice looking.  Now I cant stand him and he is the most hideous beast I have ever seen.  That is not just my thinking.  I am certain other anti-Misha fans feel the same way.  They used to like him and find him attractive, until he just put them off.  I am sure if Misha did a 360 and changed his ways, he might start to look nice to us once more.  So technically Misha lost fans because of his own behavior.   

Hellers think that J2 fans are as crazy as they are.  They think bibros love J2 the same way that they love Misha.  Blindly.  In the years that I watched SPN, I remember falling in and out of love with both Jensen and Jared [and Sam and Dean for that matter] based on something that they had done that I had liked or didn't like.  Sometimes where I was emotionally, also played a part how I felt about them, or any other human being for that matter.  People's opinions over an individual will change due to various issues.  Just recently Jensen said something I didn't approve of.  Sometimes Jared puts his foot in his mouth.  They are human so they will mess up.  If they make one stupid mistake, I let it go only because messing up is not something that they consistently do, unlike Misha who doesn't acknowledge or learn from his mistakes.  If they consistently do things to cause a rift in fandom, then there are other celebrities out there.  I don't need them.  I will move on.  So I acknowledge, that just because I like someone, it doesn't mean that he is perfect and will never mess up.  It also means that because I like someone, it is not necessary for other people to like him too.  Even amongst bibros, we have minor disagreements J2 but we don't hate each other based of differences of opinions.  We don't insist that our opinion is the right one.  In the heller camp, meta writers think for everyone.  They decide how people are going to perceive a scene, or a moment during a panel.  In fact, the lower level hellers leaving the actual watching of the show to the meta writers.  They skip episodes that don't include Cas.  That is a lot of episodes they are missing, because Misha, up till this year, was only allocated a fixed number of episodes per season in his contract.  The meta writers watch the episodes through their shipping goggles, looking for what they would consider subtext, and then they write essays based on the episode, and the possible subtext they have found, including flimsy things like shirt colors.  The lower level hellers read it and become affronted that SPN is queer baiting them so blatantly.  They do the same thing with panels.  Instead of watching the generously shared panels on YouTube, for free, they follow a high level heller on social media who attends the con, and tweets something they perceive to be slashily scandalous.  They especially look for something to get offended by, when Jared speaks.  So the lower level hellers were not forming their own opinion but basing how they feel on someone else's opinion.  They hate Jared because of reasons listed by someone else.  If they were smart, they would think for themselves.   

There is nothing wrong with any of the ships on SPN.  Do I believe all ships are equal?  Well on SPN, to a certain extent, sure.  If someone doesn't like wincest, because they are victims of incest, that would make sense.  Wincest fans who acknowledge the abuse are friends of mine.  Those that are cruel about it, are not.  Its as simple as that.  I am a victim of pedophilia.  So I hate weecest.  I don't go near weecest fic.  If weecest fans acknowledge this and leave me alone, there wont be any problems.  If they try to push their kink onto me by trying to tell me how wrong my opinion is, then they will be sorry.  But you cant call yourself a victim, by going where you are likely to find a trigger and them complaining that you are being triggered.  Not only are you looking for trouble, but you are making abuse victims and their triggers look trivial.  Because now they appear like Divas, whom everyone else has to bend over backwards to please.  This allows me to segue into a similar topic.  I have heard complaints from fans, looking up a general SPN fan fic, investing time to read it, only for their enthusiasm to come to a screeching halt because as the chapters progress, Dean comes out as bi and in love with Cas.  Shouldn't the writer notify the reader that she or he is reading a destiel fanfic.  Not only are they mistagging their Tumblr posts.  They are mistagging fanfiction.  Essentially they are duping people into reading their stories.  What kind of indoctrination logic is this?   

Hellers need to understand that Destiel is not the biggest ship on SPN.  If they insist that it is, then they have to quantify that opinion with a number.  They wont because the last time they did that, the number went up to 8000 and stalled.  That makes them 1% of the fandom and they hate being reminded of it.  They have done debunking essays with regards to the number, but then why not do the census again.  Don't debunk with your words.  Use actual data.  Prove to ''all the haters'' that there are millions of you, voting with your remote and contributing to the ratings in the USA alone.  We will never bring up the number again.  Hellers need to also understand that slash is not the point of SPN.  The show is not about love and kinks and soap opera nonsense.  It is about the supernatural, hence the name.  Insisting on making Destiel canon and destroying Jensen's reputation by calling him a bigot because he refuses to do so, is a nasty thing to do, because hellers are not the only ones watching SPN.  Everyone is, and they like the show as it is.  They don't want change.  In fact, it will surprise you to know that wincest fans don't want wincest as a romance, to be canon.  They don't demand anything accept better storylines.  The only people doing the demanding are the hellers.  It is time for dialogue to open between the destiel fans and the hellers, because the hellers are ruining not just the ship but the show as well. 

I hope this answers the question.  Thank you once again, for the ask. 

[kdinthecity]

Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen: Sweet Little Lies

This piece can be found on Ao3 and ff.net or by following the links below.

Chpt. 1 | Chpt. 2 | Chpt. 3 | Chpt. 4 | Chpt. 5

Chpt. 6 | Chpt. 7 | Chpt. 8 | Chpt. 9 | Chpt. 10

Zuko pushes himself to a standing position too abruptly, and I scramble to get my feet underneath me. He'll bolt again, I bet, but instead a silence just hangs in the salty sea air between us long enough to sting. I see the realization in his eyes, the drop of his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw, and I want to take it back—take it all back, if I could.

"So Ikem, he's—"

I nod.

"And Kiyi—"

I shrug. She could be Ikem's daughter and not Ursa's, but there is an undeniable resemblance between the feisty five-year-old and her would-be half-brother. "Zuko, I—"

A full range of emotions passes across his face in a matter of seconds, and whatever I intended to say next simply dies in my throat. His rage flares, but is quickly replaced by piercing hurt and confusion that penetrates to my core. Then he settles on that distant expression—decidedly the worst one of all. He's shut me out again.

We didn't revisit the whole boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, but Zuko is probably right. I am crazy for hoping we could make it could work. There is too much uncertainty, too many—

"Too many lies," Zuko says and resolutely shakes his head. "I'm done with all the lies."

I had been thinking secrets, not lies. The truth is there, just hidden. We are supposedly on this journey to find answers together, but there hasn't been enough time to talk about everything while we're running for our lives. Yet, I've apparently betrayed his trust by keeping secrets from him—that is, if he ever really trusted me at all. I was the one making confessions back at the airport but had only assumed our feelings were mutual.

I should tell him what I know before we head back to Noren—err, Ikem's house, but now he is intently focused on his phone, punching at the screen with unnecessary force. I pull my phone out to check the bus schedule and notice that I've missed two messages from Dad. He says he's at Ikem's, which I already knew, and is worried, so no surprises there, except…

What the—? Dad knows about Ikem?

I feign ignorance and text back, "I'm sorry, but who is Ikem? I don't recall visiting anyone by that name."

He responds, "I meant Noren," which strikes me as odd, so I half expect him to call my bluff and add, "But you knew what I meant." I stare at the words on the screen, and suddenly I want to scream. Zuko is right. IT'S ALL LIES!

"Come on. The White Lotus has service here," Zuko says briskly. "I've called us a car."

His fingers interlace with mine, and he leads me up the rocky beach pathway at a rather quickened pace. I've heard of The White Lotus before, an app-based rideshare service, but I've never used it. Headquartered in the Bay Area, it's widely popular there, although I had no idea its footprint expanded as far as Alaska.

Of course, the driver would happen to be Aleut, too, and recognizes our shared heritage. His chattiness has robbed me of any chance to talk to Zuko, to at least warn him that we're likely walking into a situation where his uncle, my dad, and Ikem are all on the same side. I mean, I think we're on their side, too, just purposely left in the dark on a lot of things. Whether it is lies or light, there is much to be revealed.

The scene upon our arrival should not have shocked me, honestly, but whatever had been keeping me together through all of this, completely shatters. Zuko barges in the door, heads straight for Ikem, and shoves the man against the wall. I crash into Dad's arms despite my earlier misgivings. Kiyi screams.

"Where is my mother?" Zuko demands.

"Nephew, now let's just—

With one hand fisted in Ikem's shirt, Zuko rounds on his uncle and points a shaky finger at him. "Or how about you tell me where she is?"

Iroh's hands shoot up in a placating gesture. "Ursa is safe, and that's what matters! But not everyone is safe, and that's why we're here. Please, we need to tell you something important."

At this, the façade breaks. Iroh catches Zuko with a fierce embrace while Ikem skirts several paces away. A sigh, a shudder, a faint I'm sorry. It's a moment that shouldn't have an audience, yet here we all are. Even though I'm enveloped in strong, safe arms, I wish I could disappear—escape. I bury my face into Dad's chest where my tears have already dampened the fabric of his shirt. The lingering scent of moonpeaches only makes me cry harder.

Sokka emerges from a corner of the room and gently addresses a trembling Kiyi. "Hey firecracker, weren't you gonna show me some cool masks in your room or something?" The young girl sniffles, then accepts the hand he's offering, and they disappear down the hallway together.

Can I go with them? I silently plead. This day started so innocently for me with Kiyi—and the smell of moonpeaches… talking about masks on the wall—and The Blue Spirit Crashing.

Nothing could have prepared me for the series of events that would happen today. And nothing could have prepared me for what Iroh is about to say. A simultaneous, collective movement is made toward the couches and chairs, because news like this is better taken while sitting down.

"There's been an incident." The old man clears his throat or chokes on his words, it's hard to tell which. "At the Marine Science Center. It caught fire last night, and—"

My dad takes the cue and continues, "Most of the animals are safe. Yue was able to set them free into the bay before the place was engulfed in flames. But because she went back to rescue them, she didn't make it out in time herself. It's uhh, all over the news. Some guy named Hahn has been interviewed, and they're looking for you two. There will be a full-scale investigation because they suspect arson as the cause."

I can barely form thoughts much less words. I somehow manage to hear Zuko speaking past the pounding in my ears.

"Are we suspects?" he asks.

Iroh shakes his head.

"But my father is behind this."

"Zuko, don't—"

"Come on, Uncle, you and I both know what he's capable of." Zuko catches my eye for the briefest of moments. "I think we all know, so please. There's no use sugar-coating anything."

I fight the urge to become a self-declared Sugar Queen—just a normal, blissfully unaware almost-sixteen-year-old. In my steadfast quest for answers, I hadn't fully weighed the impact of the truth, past or present. I sure as hell didn't think about who else might suffer the consequences.

Zuko voices my very next thought, "This is all my fault."

"It's not," my dad counters. "You can spend years consumed by self blame, but it won't bring any more or less honor to the deceased's name. Seek justice, yes, but not at the expense of safety."

These words hit home for me, but Zuko doesn't skip a beat. "But it should have been me. Ozai probably went to the Marine Center looking for me. I turned him into the police! My own father. I gave them Mom's files and The Painted Lady's, too. It won't matter, though, because all of that Death Valley stuff will be covered up by now. He goes around terrorizing everyone—killing people even, but because he neatly covers his tracks, it will never end. He's too powerful, too connected. As the primary benefactor for the Marine Science Center foundation, he'll probably give some bullshit speech about how he is so sad for the loss. Meanwhile, there is no proof of his madness. No one knows what Future Fire Industries does behind closed doors!"

"Mai does!" I blurt out suddenly. How could I fucking forget something so important? Zuko raises a brow in confusion, and with all eyes trained on my every movement, I rummage through my purse to procure the USB drive she had given me the other night at Mushi's. "Mai put some files on here about the weapons Future Fire is making," I explain breathlessly. "She gave it to me before we left, and everything has happened so fast since then. I'm sorry I didn't—"

Iroh reaches out to take the device from me. "I will personally make sure this gets to the authorities. You kids have dealt with so much already."

"Make a copy of it first, Uncle," Zuko suggests. "You never know with my father."

"Oh believe me, I know," Iroh says solemnly. "I know far too well."

I shudder at the thought of what Iroh must know and wonder how he's managed to evade his brother's wrath or influence. Then I remember that Zuko said his uncle worked for Future Fire at one point. A flicker of mistrust stirs inside me. What if—

"We've been tracked."

I'm beginning to hate when Zuko finishes my inner thoughts aloud. Because most of what I'm thinking is pretty dark these days.

Zuko, looking very pale, points to his phone and clarifies, "I don't know why Mai is offering to help again, but she warns that Ozai somehow knows we're here." He runs a hand through his hair and mumbles to himself, "He'll kill her next for tipping us off."

My dad asks the hard question. "Iroh, can you think of any way he could have known that you sent the kids here? Or that you were coming here yourself?"

The older man furrows his brow. "I was quite intentional with the travel itineraries, and the paper trail should have been minimal. But like my nephew said, Ozai is very well-connected, so the possibility exists—"

"It was me." Zuko now appears paler than pale. Impossibly pale. Is he going to pass out? "Fuck, I wasn't thinking. I was so careful to use cash everywhere just like you said, Uncle. But the White Lotus… I used the app to get us a car. I haven't used it since… and it's still—"

Iroh nods in understanding, his expression grim. "I see."

My dad looks back and forth between them, bewildered, and I sense the same seedling of mistrust taking root in him that I had felt earlier. It would help if he actually had a clue what we're talking about. The explanation quickly follows, not that it sets anyone at ease.

"My brother's credit card is still tied to a taxi service, of sorts, that Zuko can access from his phone," Iroh says with a sigh. "He used it often last summer when he was interning at Future Fire and did not have a car of his own, yet. When Zuko came to live with me just recently, I checked for any tracking devices Ozai might have placed on the phone, and we deleted a few suspicious apps. But we must have overlooked The White Lotus."

"So where are we going?"

No one had noticed that Sokka had rejoined the group. No one has an answer for him, either.

"So… the megalomaniac is chasing us… we gotta go somewhere he can't find us," Sokka continues. "The Bahamas would be nice and warm. Hmm, maybe… Spain? Or how about… Japan?"

"Don't get too excited there, Sokka," Dad intones. "We can't really afford—"

"Pick anywhere, and I'll send you there," Iroh says, then persists when my dad starts to shake his head. "Hakoda, it's the least I can do… after all the grief my family has caused yours."

Iroh then turns to Ikem, another person who's been forgotten in the mix. "I trust you have a safe place for you and Kiyi?"

"My parents live in a remote village in the Yukon Territory. We'll go visit them until this whole thing blows over."

Ikem's response surprises me. Why wouldn't they go see Ursa? Is it too risky?

Well, I'll take that risk. No more lies. No more sugar-coating.

"Thanks for the offer, Uncle Iroh," I say. "We'd like to go to Ba Sing Se. And we want Zuko to come with us."